


Up and Down

by giors1



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Elevators, F/F, Humor, Post-Curse Storybrooke, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-03
Updated: 2014-02-19
Packaged: 2017-12-07 10:07:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/747294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/giors1/pseuds/giors1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emma Swan and elevators. So many problems between them, since she saved Henry from the mine, or when she was stuck on the elevator in the Stoybrooke Library. But trouble always comes in three. And this time she won’t be alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta’d, as usual, mistakes are mine, but OUat is not.  
> Just one of my random writing experiments trying to change usual style and genre. And not a one-shot, for once. English is not my first language.

Another boring day in Storybrooke.

Emma Swan had to admit she sometimes missed some action, back in the Enchanted Forest, and the unstable equilibrium of her normal life in the little town in Maine was not sufficient to give her some unusual emotion, some thrills. Maybe some goose bumps once in a while.

Formality and ordinary work on some documents created her routine. Coffee during the day and sometimes a beer at night created her physiological needs routine.

Long story short, Emma missed to kick some asses, but she was perfectly aware that tranquillity and an equilibrated domestic environment were a luxury she had never had and, no matter how ordinary her life had become, that was what she was defending, at that moment.

Bureaucracy and paperworks meant also trying not to kick a particular ass, Regina Mills’ ass; the former Evil Queen, former Madame Mayor, but definitely not-former bitch was still walking around the rooms of the City Hall trying to help the new mayor surviving the financial mess created by the partial destruction of the town operated by Emma herself, Cora and the Charmings. Who were also the new mayor and deputy mayor.

Regina found this new distribution of powers quite disturbing and her rage could easy occupy the whole broom closet they gave her as her new office. At least, she was lucky she could use the elevator.

Four floors. 7 minutes to go from the first floor to the fourth, where her office was. It usually took less amount of time taking the stairs, but the stilettos mixed with those forty binders definitely needed the elevator.

Emma didn’t even know that the City Hall had an elevator; not that she would avoid it, but one of the things she learnt in her recent life was that elevators or similar mechanical _contraptions_ were not her thing. She remembered the mine, with Henry in danger. Or the Library, when Henry was in danger. _If only the kid could be calm for 5 seconds._

But four floors and the amazing contribution stairs could give to her bottom in terms of tonicity didn’t win in front of some lazy elevator giving her more time to repeat again and again in her mind _how gentle would have been from Regina to give up on her friday dinner with Henry because of a three-day trip in Boston she had planned with her son_.

But, accidentally, they met in the elevator, screwing Emma’s internal monologue and Regina’s stability with 40 binders.

“Miss Swan”

“Regina”

“Up or down?” asked Regina, coldly.

“Down. Basement. Definitely not where your office is” was the confused answer Emma could murmur.

“Fine. I’ll go up first, since I have a lot of work to do. Then you can go wherever you need to run away from me and _not asking what you’re avoiding to ask_ ”.

But suddenly, all that Emma could do was to push the elevator button bringing her in the basement, a place she didn't even know it existed but it would have been perfect since she didn't have to stay in the despised elevator. With Regina Mills.

Exactly in the same moment, all that Regina Mills could do was to push the button with the number four written on it, just because she wanted to win. Especially against Emma Swan.

The elevator started to move. And it made a worrying amount of crackling sounds. But with Emma's immense joy, it started to go down. She won.

She had been faster, more clever and wiser.

Luckily for her, Regina could just roll her eyes and wait for the moment Emma would run away. Silently.

But the elevator stopped not-so-silently and both women almost fell down after the impact.

Just a rapid stare and a useless attempt to open the doors.

_They tried. Oh, they tried so much to open those doors._

But they were stuck in there.

Together.

Emma Swan and her fear of elevators.

And, of course, the former Evil Queen, former Madame Mayor, but _definitely not-former_ sexy goddess Regina Mills.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

“I can't open those fuckin' doors”. Emma was punching the air fighting against invisible mosquitos, while Regina maintained her usual demeanor, watching the light illuminating the elevator button, like it was mocking her.

“I can see it, Miss Swan”.

 

“You've got to be fuckin' kidding me”

“You're wasting air, Miss Swan”. Regina Mills tried to be the one being rational.

 

“We're. Stuck. In. Here.” Emma needed to hear that statement, just to point out how she could find herself _again_ in a ridiculous situation without escape.

“Ladies and gentleman, Sheriff Obvious”. Regina put her binders on the ground.

“Stop wasting air, Mills” That was said with the best furious glance Emma Swan could've ever delivered.

 

“Does someone suffer from elevators phobia, Miss Swan?”

 

“No, I'm allergic to former mayors, actually”. 

 

Sarcasm hadn't been enough, for Emma. So frustration happened.

 

“God, you're not even worried by this thing?”

“No, Miss Swan, I'm not. I'm just succumbing to my punishment for all the wrong things I've done in my life”. Regina Mills, _the face of resignation_ , had spoken. “They say I'm evil, and that I'm a murderer. So I hope this torture of being stuck in here with you could allow me to expiate my guilts, once for all”.

 

“Great. So, while you try to reach a proper level of holiness, I'll try to call someone who can help us, ok?!”

 

Regina's flick of the wrist was the only answer Emma could obtain, but the sudden realization that both the phone on the elevator and her mobile were out of order hit the blonde Sheriff.

 

“No signal, Regina”

“Predictable, Miss Swan”.

 

It wasn't time to give up for Emma Swan and her elevators phobia, yet. “Couldn't you just magic us out of here?”

“Well, I could, if only your genius parents didn't take away every bit of magic I had – and I quote - _for our daughter's safety_ ”.

 

“So, it's a no?”

“You're so perceptive sometimes, Miss Swan”

 

“Call me Emma, please. It will waste less oxygen”. And after that unexpected request, Emma simply sat down on the floor, near the binders.

 

One minute of complete silence.

Two minutes of complete silence.

Regina knew that reaching _minute number three of complete silence_ would have been almost a miracle; in fact, Emma suddenly grumbled, watching absent-mindedly her feet. And then Regina's bottom, but just for a couple of unsuspecting seconds.

 

“So...how's your job going?”

“So...Miss Swan, how's your perfect family going?”

 

“Ok, got it. No personal questions.”

_Attempt of conversation number one: failed._

_Another check to Regina's bottom: done. You go, Swan._

 

“Are you going to sit, sooner or later, or do you plan on staying rigidly up until someone opens that door?”

“Someone should know we're here. They can ignore me, but they saw you entering the building. It's just a matter of minutes and someone will get us out of here”.

 

“Meanwhile you can sit, maybe...”

“No, thanks”

 

_Attempt of conversation number two: failed._

 

“Really, Regina, you should sit. I cannot stop staring at your ass. Please”.

Regina eventually turned her head toward the sheriff, inspecting Emma's eyes.

“Great, stuck in an elevator with an aroused Savior. Didn't know my sins were so horrible”.

 

“I'm not aroused Regina, I'm just speaking with someone who doesn't even bother to watch me in the eyes”. _Good move, Sheriff Clever!_ Emma Swan mentally congratulated herself on her own _fake_ offended tone, demonstrating once more that Storybrooke didn't lower her IQ. And she was also the Savior, so she found some bravery to keep going with her serious tone.

 

“I know that staying together in the same room is almost impossible, not to mention we're actually in an elevator, now. Which is worse. And I don't like it too, but we're adults, so--”

 

“Ok, ok-- but just stop talking like an actual adult Miss Swan...you're frightening me. Look, I'm sitting down, right”. And even if Regina Mills filled her sentence with sarcasm, Emma Swan eventually obtained what she wanted.

Regina Mills was sitting next to her.

 

_And the second step was now trying not to watch her legs._

 

“It's pretty hot, here”. Emma stated out of nowhere, ignoring the subtext.

 

“ _You_ broke the curse. _You_ brought summer here in Storybrooke. Don't blame me, Miss Swan”

 

“Really?! You're saying that the normal cycle of seasons in Storybrooke is actually my fault?”

 

“I loved winter, so I planned to froze my town in a winter cold day. My closet didn't contain a single summer dress, actually. I had to buy them, and I might also say you owe me a lot of money, at this point”. 

 

All that Emma could do was smiling. “Not with my pay. You know, having my mother as mayor, unexpectedly, didn't help me with my request for a pay raise”.

 

“I didn't vote for her, if it helps...”

 

_Attempt of conversation number three: huge success._

 

Maybe it was their new settlement, their unexpected comforted position on a floor of a broken elevator, or a slight resignation that this situation would last longer than expected, but in that exact moment, they both smiled. Real smiles.

 

“What do you think Archie would say if he was here?”. Silence had been the only answer coming from the former mayor. A few words were pronounced a couple of minutes after.

 

“Something like _'Miss Mills, what are you afraid of?'_...” Regina regained again that smile, mimicking Archie's shy voice.

 

“Well, dear Mr. Bug”, started Emma, impersonating the brunette sat nearby, “I'm afraid that pink will be the new black – and you know how black looks good on me...”

 

Regina pretended to be offended by the imitation, but Emma could feel she was enjoying it. A lot.

 

“Also, I'm also afraid of losing the contest for 'Best lasagna of the year' since I'm practicing a lot and, even without magic, I'm fuckin' good at it”

 

Regina nodded, pointing out that Emma was absolutely right, but probably cursing wouldn't have been her style.

 

“And number three...”

 

A strange sparkle in Emma's eyes emphasized a dramatic pause Regina couldn't quite understand.

 

“ _..._ I'm really afraid Emma Swan likes me. A lot. And she wants to ask me out” 

 

Regina's inner walls collapsed; she could hear sirens and alarms in her head. 

She couldn't move a single muscle; not a single change in the way she was devouring Emma's eyes. 

Rage. Confusion. 

Or a statement that was simply _true_?

Thirty seconds after, it was already too late to deny.

 

_Did she really like this annoying woman?_

 

Emma felt enough courage in her veins to sustain the shocked gaze of Regina Mills. And also the confused one the brunette delivered a few seconds after. Maybe she screwed everything, revealing through her poor mental trick something she had been felt for long. Something blocking her when she had to talk to Regina, or to go to her office, or to drive Henry to her impressive mansion for their friday dinner.

 

Maybe she did screw everything.

_Or maybe not._

 

Regina Mills, the former mayor, former Evil Queen and breathtaking scent in-charge, was still sitting next to the blonde. 

Emma Swan was actually still alive; any attempt of violent homicide hadn't been performed, _yet_.

 

Until Regina Mills _royally_ stood up and started to scream, beating _not-so-royally_ her fists on the elevator doors.

“Move your fuckin' asses, you peasants, and get me out of here, for God's sake!!”.

 

_Panic, they call it._


	3. Chapter 3

“Get me out of here!” Regina's vocabulary suddenly had been reduced to five words. She couldn't say anything else.

 

Emma was dumbfounded. Just about 20 minutes before, she was the one freaking out, dealing with her recent elevator phobia, mixing with former-mayor phobia, mixing also with a couple of ridiculously sexy legs kicking those elevator doors.

 

“Do something, Miss Swan...” Emma surely wasn't expecting herself to be involved in this new plan named _Make some noise with Regina Mills and try to make yourself hear._ At least, not in the sense of being stuck in the elevator and screaming to the point when someone could save them.

 

_Ok, ok...mental slap on the face for you, Emma._ _No more dirty thoughts._

 

“Regina, calm down. Someone is going to notice our absence...we're been here for 20 minutes...”

Regina was still ignoring her, striking the doors with her Louboutin.

 

“And that's definitely a great plan, Madam...ruining expensive shoes to save your ass. Shoes that probably cost more than this elevator itself”. Emma's new attempt was based on Regina's sense of fashion, hoping to hit a sensitive topic.

 

_But mostly, when did the former mayor take off her shoes?_

_No, no, do NOT focus on her bare feet, Swan!_

 

_Feet?_

_Where the hell is the other shoe? Magic black holes in the elevator. Great!_

 

Emma wasn't someone particularly skilled when it came to shock management, or concentration management. And Regina Mills wasn't helping.

 

So she simply decided to take Regina's face on her hand, establishing a very intense eye-contact and, with a voice surprisingly calm and inflexible, she stated “Stop. Screaming. Just. Stop.”

 

Regina couldn't exactly decide if she should keep on screaming because of her fear of dying in an abandoned elevator, because of the sudden urge of hitting Emma Swan with an expensive french shoe or because of the thrill that those hands, _Emma's hands_ , were giving her, now that they were on her cheeks.

 

“Stop it, this behavior is not helping. We will get out of here, I promise you...but stop freaking out, Mills.”

 

“But...” Regina tried to complain.

 

“Shut up”

 

“But we...” Regina was stammering. Emma wasn't losing eye-contact, not even for a second. 

 

“But if they don't...” A lot of things could have been said about Regina, except that she wasn't a tenacious person. Unfortunately for her, Emma was, too.

 

So tenacious that she wanted so badly to shut Regina up. So badly that...she had to place her lips on Regina's. Just for a few seconds.

 

“Apparently”, Emma told the brunette, “eye-contact is not enough for you”

 

Lip-contact was definitely a better option.

 

Maybe. 

 

Because now she had to deal with someone with elevator phobia AND Emma Swan phobia.

 

Regina couldn't speak. Once Emma was back in her original position, a few inches far from her face – from her lips – the brunette couldn't even start to rationalize what had just happened to her.

 

She could still feel the blonde's mouth on hers, Emma's cold nose brushing against hers, Emma's hands trembling slightly, losing for one second the grip on her face.

 

It was too much. 

It was nothing.

It was...

 

“What was that, Miss Swan?”

 

“I'm pretty sure I can find a definition on Google, if you need it”. Emma's hands were still there, cradling Regina's face.

 

“Are you upset?”

“Yes, indeed I am.”

 

“But you stopped freaking out, anyway. Fight fire with fire, they say...”

 

“Miss Swan, you're saying I should also thank you for that k--”

“Regina, I can assure you this was _not_ a kiss...”

 

“I guess it was just an attempt to ease the situation, then.”

 

Silence. Eyes devouring every inch separating them.

 

“Regina?”

 

“What now?” They didn't dare to move.

 

“Can I take Henry with me for a three-day trip to Boston, next Friday?” Emma could barely breath. Every word had been pronounced without a pause. No air in, no air out. Bomb dropped.

 

Blurred vision? Yes, d _efinitely_.

 

_But how could Regina look so stunning even with blurred vision?_

 

“Sheriff, what do you think you're doing? First you go crazy, then you make me go crazy, than you kiss me...” The brunette's eyes became darker. And raging.

 

“It was barely some lip-contact...” Emma interrupted.

 

“...and you asked me out...”

 

“Technically I was _mimicking_ you...” Emma interrupted again.

 

“...everything just to steal the only day I share with my son?!” Regina's question froze Emma all of a sudden.

 

Regina's eyes expressed that kind of violent rage Emma had hoped to avoid during all her recent life in Storybrooke, mostly because it was strictly connected with the figure of the Evil Queen, which was definitely too much too handle. 

 

Even if she was left without magic.

 

Even if she wasn't wearing those stunning, elaborate and majestic dresses she saw on Henry's book.

 

And maybe it was because of the book reminding Emma those evil dresses, or the vague sense of claustrophobia still on her veins, or Regina's scent invading even more her nostrils, Emma Swan found herself on the verge to say sorry.

 

But, instead of actually saying it, she went for a more persuasive way. 

A way which was _not so new_ for Regina: lip-contact, _again_.

 

The two women found themselves again with their lips touching, and their minds admitting that that couldn't be a kiss; seconds passed and the shyness inherited from the first contact from a couple of minutes before was passing, too.

 

Lips were timidly dancing, Emma's thumbs started again to caress the former mayor's cheeks, rationality was fighting against the urge of closing their eyes because _that_ would have definitely been the sign of a real kiss.

 

Emma liked very much this way of _not kissing_ Regina, of _not_ touching her skin, of _not_ trying to break the thin cold ice around her heart, but it was the brunette who was the first to step back and break physical contact.

 

“So, every time you say something improper or offensive, you end up kissing your interlocutor? That's how you solve things, Miss Swan?”

 

Regina perfectly knew how to stab someone only with the plain use of words.

 

Emma couldn't lose this fight. “And again, don't flatter yourself too much. First, you were freaking out again. Second, that wasn't even a kiss...”

 

“I forgot, lip-contact, right....”. A few seconds were actually needed to catch again some vital breaths of air. Both definitely craved for them. “Anyway, you didn't answer my question: the lip-contact...it's your usual strategy when cornered or I'm the only one owing this privilege?”.

 

“If, and let me underline the word _IF,_ this was a real kiss you would've notice the difference”. 

Emma felt a strange vibe all over her veins; a quiver invading her body and her mind giving her the strength to go _all in, because it's now or never_ and another ton of stupid idiomatic expressions that could have been useful to give her some courage.

 

“I may not be a good sheriff, but about being a good kisser, well, there's no doubt about that.”

 

_Had a challenge officially been opened?_

 

“What's so special in your technique, Swan?”

 

In a couple of seconds the elevator seemed too small for both of them and maybe the oxygen levels were really decreasing. Temperature was high, figuratively speaking or not. That was a dangerous game and the setting was not helping. Consequences to every action potentially taken by one of them, or by both, could have been fatal.

And disastrous.

 

“Those hands I still have on your face, Madam, would first reach your chin and than your neck, traveling slowly to study your skin...to feel the reaction of your muscles and the accelerated rhythm of your pulse point, according to my technique”.

 

Regina could barely blink. Emma's movements were actually following her description. She could feel her fingers tracing invisible lines, going from her cheeks to her neck, just like when you draw imaginary constellations in the sky, almost touching the stars.

Emma was just at the beginning.

 

“My procedure is based on three...

 

_A kiss on Regina's neck. Soft and simple._

 

“ _..._ easy...”

 

_Another kiss on Regina's neck._

 

“...steps.”

 

Emma regained her original position, which was, as usual, an invasion of the former mayor personal space. Regina didn't dare to react. 

Regina Mills, for the millionth time that day, had no idea of what to do. Emma's voice was a spiral of confusion, dressed with smooth silk, driving her senses without a logic.

 

“First: hesitation”. A pause. “Everything should start tentatively, especially with someone like you...”

 

Emma's hands started to lightly touch Regina's hair, moving a black lock behind her ear. They were breathing the same air, lips almost touching again and a timorous caress exploring again the back of her neck.

 

“Second: memorizing the feelings”. Emma's voice was just a whisper and every word she pronounced tickled Regina's lips.

“The way you move in such a little space, the reaction of your body every time I speak...”

 

Emma Swan's hands found a new horizon touching the brunette's shoulders, at first, and then going down until their fingers intertwined for a couple of second. Not more.

 

“...I want to understand what you want, what you _would_ do and what you _can_ do. Here. Despite the heat, the lack of air or the fact that you can't stand me...”

 

Emma Swan lost every kind of fear towards Regina Mills in that exact moment. In front of _the former mayor_ , _former Evil Queen_ and _breathtaking scent in-charge_ , she realized she had never been afraid of her.

 

She was afraid of what she might have felt with her. _For her._

 

The brunette realized she desperately needed to talk, to establish again a proper equilibrium of powers between them. But everything she was able to say was “Tell me something about that third phase, Sheriff...”

 

Emma proved again to the universe that she was a woman of action; she left her fingers playing with Regina's, titillating her palms, and she simply started to kiss her, like there was no more air in the elevator and kissing the older woman was the only possible way to survive.

 

Lips had met again, mouths were dry but hesitation and shyness weren't anymore cards to play for that game. Emma's mouth was open enough to welcome Regina's demanding tongue, and they soon found the right rhythm, the music, the magic.

 

Emma was the one breaking the kiss, searching for air, but she found herself smiling when she realized Regina was there, motionless, with her eyes closed.

 

“You won't push me away like you've been burned by the contact...and we definitely aren't going to say sorry, because the third phase of my procedure...

 

_Another soft kiss of Regina's mouth._

 

“... is to make the first two steps short, leaving you wanting for more”

 

_One more kiss, taking away the last trace of lipstick on the former mayor's lips._

 

“Am I hearing bells, Miss Swan?” Could Regina have turned to be such a romantic woman only with a bunch of kisses?

 

“Maybe...” Answered the Sheriff, still enjoying the luxury of feeling Regina's body pressed to hers.

 

“No, Miss Swan” An unexpected movement made Regina regain her composure.

 

“I'm really hearing the bells. I think it's your cell phone!”.

 

“Do we have the signal back?” Emma was shocked. And happy. But mostly still aroused from what had happened before.

 

“Are you going to answer or not?” Regina's question left no place for hesitations.

 

“You tell me, Regina. Am. I. Going. To. Answer?”. That intriguing gaze, again. That low and seductive voice, again.

 

_Another kiss._

 

They were still holding hands. Even tighter.

 

Both bodies were closer, again.

 

Regina spoke.

 

“No, Emma. You're not”.

 

 

-tbc-

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ouat is not mine, but mistakes are. Not beta'd, as usual.
> 
> I'm sorry for the embarrassing amount of time I needed to write this chapter, but my muse, my job and my forthcoming wedding find it hard to share their time with my Swan Queen feels.

Emma's ringtone accompanied their kiss for a while, then it faded away. 

 

They found themselves in an alternate dimension in which that kiss they shared was pure perfection, an absolute logic consequence of hands moving which eventually found a proper place, of mouths which finally found the perfect concept to communicate without using a single word.

 

Sharing that kiss, in that strange situation, was like being teenagers again; one of them teaching to the other what kissing meant, what feeling dizzy meant, what kind of inner physical struggle can be created knowing that both of them will soon need some air, but either won't be brave enough to stop the kiss.

 

Frantic, but respectful, the kiss became a dance where mouths rhythmically moving were just a part of the game; touching and exploring had become something natural whey both could do without asking for permission.

 

Teenagers, but also adults, knowing what you can lose if you don't play it well.

 

Eventually their lips parted, even if they weren't ready. Regina's hands were in Emma's hair, while the braveness of the blonde made her caressing Regina's left hip with her hand. A very convinced and dedicated touch.

Emma smiled.

 

Regina kept her stare fixed on the sheriff's eyes, slightly tilting her head.

 

“Hi” said Emma, with the face of someone who has a lot of things to say but is just able to come out with a monosyllabic word. Prosaic, but cute.

 

“Hello to you, Miss Swan. Are we back to introductions?”

 

“Still nervous about your elevator phobia?”

 

Silence.

 

“I liked you better with curly hair”

 

“I liked you better when you were kissing me, but we can't have all we want”

 

Emma's phone was now silent and both women, despite the dizzy atmosphere in the elevator, acknowledged that they basically missed an opportunity to be saved.

_Be saved from what, actually?_

 

The blonde took the phone with her right hand, leaving the left still on Regina's hip. Abandoning the conquered space on the brunette was definitely out of discussion.

 

“No signal, again” Emma stated. Without the slightest sense of sadness.

 

“Then we'll just have to wait and find something to do” was the immediate response Regina Mills gave.

 

Emma had just a couple of seconds to realize how actually silly had been her “hesitation” phase, because she definitely had a couple of ideas about _what to do_ with the former-mayor, and _how to do it_ , but she found herself quite surprised when Regina's hands left the softness of Emma's hair.

 

Still without her shoes on, Regina Mills elegantly sat on the ground, leaving a dumbstruck Emma enjoying the increasing sense of superiority her height had given her, already noticed by the younger woman even during their kiss.

Everything Emma could do was following the brunette, sitting close, in front of her, still dangerously near.

 

Something in Emma's pocket made a strange noise Regina couldn't recognize, but it took Emma just a few seconds to put her hand in it and grabbing a little plastic box.

 

“Want some?”

 

“Are you offering me a Tic Tac? How silly has been from me thinking we would've died here, starving to death”.

 

“Want it or not?” asked Emma again. And wondered how it was possible to like that annoying woman so much.

 

“You started with offering a dinner and now we're sharing a Tic Tac. How peculiar...”

 

Emma Swan smiled. “You haven't accepted my offer for a date, _yet_. I thought it would've been wise to lower my expectations...”

 

Regina took a couple of mints.

 

“...not that you need those, of course...”

 

Regina delivered her most fake offended stare.

 

“Thanks”

 

“Told you I was a good kisser” Emma winked.

 

“Thanks, _for the Tic Tac_ ” specified Regina.

 

“You're welcome. Also for the Tic Tac”

 

Emma had always found some difficulties on keeping conversations active and interesting, especially when she realized she felt way better when Regina's body was pressed to hers, when hands were frantically running through her hair, when her mind couldn't get enough of her scent mixing with the brunette's tongue caressing her lower lip.

 

The idea of becoming familiar with that woman, of knowing every little inch of her body, every reaction, anticipating her needs and wants was something definitely intriguing.

 

Breaking her walls, understanding her, getting to know her was something definitely harder.

 

Confidence, or at least pretending to own that attitude with Regina Mills, was something almost impossible to sustain.

 

"You think you know me, right, Emma Swan?"

 

Emma tilted her head, trying to study Regina's new initiative. Despite their new position, sitting one in front of the other, Emma could still feel some sense of inferiority towards the brunette. Even if she wasn't wearing her stilettos. WIth her arms crossed and leaned on her knees, and her chin laid on her hands, Emma Swan was ready for Regina's new attack. Pretending to be confident, as usual.

 

"You think that reading that book has given you access to some kind of hidden part of me? You believe that I'm here, waiting for someone new, ready to manipulate me again?"

 

This sudden change of tone was more than expected, but Emma began to understand that being gentle with Regina Mills always implied a certain degree of suspicion from the woman.

 

"You might also take me out, bring me flowers I love, order my favorite food and wine…"

 

"Stop it, Regina" Emma whispered, with a shade of frustration.

 

Regina ignored Emma's request.

 

"…you may also be careful with me, not asking a single think about my past, about the person I was before or what led me to be the person I was when you first came to this town…"

 

"Is this the moment when you become verbose because you're nervous?"

 

Regina grumbled, and Emma took it as a _yes_.

 

"I like you. I liked you when I first saw you. I like you today and considering the fact that I kissed you at least a dozen of times, I don't think you need more evidences…" Emma tried to fight Regina's frustration with a good amount of simple, unshakable logic.

 

"I thought we were people who didn't believe in fairytales anymore, Sheriff"

 

"We can start believing in dates, Miss Mills"

 

"People would talk about us. People won't accept this twist in our lives. Not to mention your mother, your father and about half of this crazy town's desire to torture me, then kill me, then torture me again…"

 

"You underestimate the importance of dating someone who is called The Savior". Logic, unshakable logic. Again.

 

"You overestimate the appeal of dating someone who is called The Evil Queen". Regina Mills started to doubt her ability of winning this conversation against Emma Swan.

 

"You're just Regina Mills, to me". Emma couldn't sound more sincere

 

Regina glanced down to avoid the intimacy Emma was so eager to find. And also to prepare herself for words which were forming uncontrollably on her throat, fighting to be pronounced.

 

"And I'm afraid that you, to me, could be someone I would cast a curse for, if things go wrong…"

 

Just like 29 years ago.

 

Just like when she lost her stable boy, her love.

 

Just like when she lost herself, and her ability to love.

 

"Then save this world, Regina Mills, and accept my offer for a dinner together".

 

Emma Swan tried to hide her shock after Regina's admission with another simple phrase, pretending there was no magic, no curses, no strange alternatives of fairytales populating their lives. Just a world where an Evil Queen, beautiful as a princess, could be able to find her happy ending with a White Knight with long blond hair and a peculiar attitude when it came to the choice of leather jackets.

 

The flow of thoughts in the minds of the two women, who spent at least five minutes in complete silence, was interrupted again, like when their kiss had been stopped by Emma's phone ringing.

 

Their silent conversation, their sharing of naked admissions had found again a new interruption.

 

Snow and David were screaming, calling Emma's name. And a certain amount of embarrassing nicknames like _Em_ , _sweetheart_ , _honey_ , _princess_ or other words Emma found too painful to memorize.

 

"We're going to free you in less than a minute, Emma!"

 

They knew that Emma Swan and Regina Mills were there, trapped in that elevator, trying not to kill each others.

 

If only they also knew their daughter, and maybe also Storybrooke former mayor, would have payed all the money of the world to have more than a minute, more that 60 seconds brutally running, stealing the remaining chances for some sarcasm, some fight, some direct confrontation.

 

Or laughters, or tears, or fists and expensive shoes hitting that door that now was about to be opened.

 

A door that they both wanted to stay close, just for little more time.

 

"We're here. And we're fine, don't worry...”

 

Regina and Emma were almost sure they heard Snow saying something like “Oh lord, I'm so happy my daughter's still alive”.

 

And since that that kind of statement couldn't be the last thing they shared in that elevator, Emma Swan took one last breath full of bravery, while Regina regally stood up, wore her Loubutins and took her binders in just a few seconds.

 

“You know, I suck at a lot of things. And one of them is that phase I told you about...the one where I was supposed to memorize the feeling when I was kissing you...”

 

A Savior had to be brave, after all.

 

“...so, I was thinking that, maybe...if you agree...I could, you know...”

 

A Savior had to be brave. Shyness was an extra bonus just to increase the tenderness.

Emma was approaching again to Regina's lips.

 

“...I mean...if kissing you was an option, I would kiss you again. I definitely would. To accomplish phase number two, of course. A Savior never leaves a mission unaccomplished”.

 

The former mayor, _former evil queen_ , smiled behind her pile of binders. “This is something you can't win, Emma Swan”. Regina whispered those words really close to the blonde's lips.

 

A kiss. Dry lips touching lightly. Just for a second.

 

 _Who kissed who_ was a question that would have remained forever without a proper answer.

 

Another one, equally brief. Equally dry. Just to capture her prey for a second and then let it go. Free.

 

In a few moments the doors a small crowd, leaded by the new mayor and her husband, also known as Emma Swan's parents, opened the elevator doors.

 

Hands grabbed Emma's arms and shoulders, voices started to invade the small space outside the elevator, where the Sheriff had been taken to.

 

Questions. A _re you alright, honey?_

 

Voices. _Sheriff, do we have to call an ambulance?_

 

Hands touching her. _Stop touching me, I'm fine!_

 

An undefined number of eyes were on the blonde sheriff, even if Emma's eyes were frantically searching the familiar figure of the person she shared the elevator with; she couldn't find her. Too many people around her, too many useless worries invading her space, her mind, her heart.

 

What Emma could possibly think about this whole experience shared with the adoptive mother of her son, it was still impossible to understand.

 

Panic and kisses.

 

Fights and kisses.

 

Kisses, and now nothing.

 

Four floors and 7 minutes from the first floor to the fourth, where Regina Mills' office was; with a little more concentration, and less words coming from the noisy crowd, Emma Swan knew that, closing her eyes, she could have heard the sound of Regina's stilettos walking away, step after step.

 

The irony of missing already the brunette made Emma almost smile.

 

Two years spent hating that woman, trying to stay as far as possible from her; every kind of effort fucked up by a couple of times in which Emma entertained herself saving the former mayor and a few moments shared in that elevator where kissing had become the only option to survive.

 

Emma Swan started that day hoping for some action, just to change her normal boring routine as a useless sheriff of a ghost town, and ended up hoping for some silence and a pair of lips touching hers. Regina Mills' lips, to be precise.

 

"Emma, are you alright?" Asked for the hundredth time David, without receiving an answer, again.

 

"Emma, I think you need some fresh air" her mother suggested, trying to let her statement be stronger than the fog of voices surrounding the blonde woman.

 

"Where's Regina?" The only thought Emma could articulate. Damn woman. Damn evil witch. Damn unforgettable kisser.

 

"She went away as soon as we opened the doors…we asked her if she was ok, but she gave us one of her looks and walked away…"

 

"Yeah, she walked away…" that was all an absent-minded Emma could repeat. Snow could only watch the blonde woman, trying to understand what kind of spell an Evil Queen without magic powers could have performed on her dumbfounded daughter.

 

But there was a single thing the Storybrooke Sheriff knew, and it was that once you go down, literally down - in the basement - you can only go up.

 

Literally up. Seven minutes away from there. To the fourth floor.

 

Where Regina Mills' office, also known as the _broom closet_ which had become the new working place of the former mayor and former Evil Queen, was.

 

And Emma simply ran.

 

_-tbc-_


	5. Chapter 5

I apologize. It took me a lot of time to eventually have a new chapter for this story, really a huge and embarrassing amount of time to find a structure, to have their voices and their interactions for this story back in my head. But now I'm on board again and I hope that the 2457th rewriting of the final act of this story is the right one. One more chapter to come, after this.

 

Thanks for your patience, it really meant a lot for me to still receive favorites and reviews for this story in the last few weeks.

 

_\---_

 

_"Where's Regina?" The only thought Emma could articulate. Damn woman. Damn evil witch. Damn unforgettable kisser._  
  
 _"She went away as soon as we opened the doors…we asked her if she was ok, but she gave us one of her looks and walked away…"_  
  
 _"Yeah, she walked away…" that was all an absent-minded Emma could repeat. Snow could only watch the blonde woman, trying to understand what kind of spell an Evil Queen without powers could have performed on her dumbfounded daughter._  
  
 _But there was a single thing the Storybrooke Sheriff knew, and it was that once you go down, literally down - in the basement - you can only go up._  
  
 _Literally up. Seven minutes away from there. To the fourth floor._  
  
 _Even less than seven minutes, if you take the stairs and not that fuckin' elevator._  
  
 _Up to the fourth floor._  
  
 _Where Regina Mills' office, also known as the broom closet which had become the new working place of the former mayor and former Evil Queen, was._  
  
 _And Emma simply ran._  
  
 _\---_  
  


Or, at least, she tried. Just after a step, a strong hand grabbed her wrist and wiped out her intentions of an escape.  
  
"Where are you going, Emma?"  
  
It was David. It was her father's hand which stopped her and forced her to share again that small space with people she couldn't care of.  
  
Emma's answer came out easily. "Up. I'm going up"  
  
But she wasn't definitely ready to share with the bothersome crowd the reason she wanted to disappear, run and reach Regina Mills.  
  
Or The Evil Queen, as they would still call her. Because, after all, that was what that intoxicating brunette was to them; clearly, Emma thought, she wasn't ready to let the former mayor kiss everyone in town just to show them how her kisses could reach such an unexpected level of tenderness and honesty.  
  
She was the Savior and she was pretty happy to embrace this kind of duty. And with that, eventually, realize the very first good aspect of being the Savior of that town forgotten by the world.  
  
Kiss. The. Mayor.  
  
Kiss. The. Former. Mayor.  
  
Emma Swan's mind was creating a surreal mental picture of Regina Mills cooking an apple pie with an apron delivering that interesting message when David shook her arm again to gain her daughter's attention.  
  
"Emma! You look confused…shocked…" Snow's tender and maternal tone hit the blonde, who was still thinking about her favorite brunette cooking for her wearing only that apron.  
  
Kiss. The. Evil. Queen.  
  
David was holding her wrist again, just like a father can do when he doesn't want his kid to go playing with his friends.  
  
"Emma, did she do something evil to you?"  
  
"She…" - _Well, she evilly kissed me..._  
  
 _"_ I…" - … _and I definitely liked it..._  
  
"We..." Emma wasn't able to articulate a single sentence which could not involve what Regina Mills had actually done to her and, most of all, what she would have wanted her to do, if her parents and a noisy crowd hadn't "saved" them.  
  
"They've fought". It was Snow who spoke. "And I think they also have argued... am I right, Emma?".  
  
"Right. That's exactly what we did. We….fought!" Emma exaggerated her statement showing her fists to the stupid crowd. That was her chance to find an excuse to escape. Lie.  
  
"Ohhh" The stupid crowd reacted.  
  
David was both worried and excited; his heroic daughter, bringing order and justice also in elevators.  
  
Meanwhile, Emma realized that there was someone in that crowd that was anything but stupid.  
  
"…and we agued…sooo much. Like when we were at the mines, months ago…or at the graveyard when we punched each other's face…"  
  
Emma's eyes met Snow's, then the short-haired woman spoke again.  
  
"And I suppose the argument hasn't been closed, yet. And you need to talk to her again…”  
  
"Yes!" Emma followed her mother's advice with too much enthusiasm.  
  
"…and you need to clarify your point of view…"  
  
"Oh, yes!" Emma couldn't contain herself, with her convincing look and a finger pointing an invisible point in the air.  
  
"…and, after that, I think you should also request an apology, shouldn't you?"  
  
"Yes, definitely!"  
  
The crowd simply nodded.  
  
David simply stared at the two women.  
  
And Emma was ready to swear she saw her mother winking, even if the whole situation was now heavily confusing and her mental image of Regina Mills wearing just an apron kept on menacing her lucidity.  
  
All she felt was David's grip disappearing and her legs automatically moving towards the stairs, away from the crowd.  
  
One step after the another. Faster and faster.  
  
Regina's scent. Closer and closer.  
  
An inappropriate "Kick her ass, Emma!". Further and further.  
  
Without any vague idea of what to say to Regina, Emma kept on running and thought about the irony of forgetting how to breathe for the second time, that day; the first time had brought her the pleasant kiss shared with one of the most irritating woman she had ever met, while the second was after a pure waste of energy, deeply commected with too many donuts and a decreasing physical activity in her life.

  
Something else Regina Mills could help to solve. Especially regarding the 'more physical activity' issue.

  
Four floors after, Emma found herself in front of Regina's office; the door was closed and she was ready to open it and find an annoyed and disappointed woman writing _only-god-knows-what_ or signing useless documents. What she actually found was a woman standing up in front of her desk, still holding tightly her binders.

  
Regina had her back at the door, but she could hear Emma opening the door and stopping to breathe, waiting for her reaction; the brunette was indeed tired of fighting and reacting.  
Tired of rejecting, also.

  
“I was hoping you wouldn't show up here. I think I made myself clear when I told you to stay away from me"

  
"I'm a stubborn woman."

  
"I'm not a prize to win...or a girl to save from a tragic destiny. Please, go back to your work so I can go back to mine". 

 

Suddenly Emma Swan had the impression of having the old, bitchy Regina back, the version that she now knew she had used just as a defense against suffering, problems and manipulations. Meanwhile, Regina hadn't found the right moment to turn and watch Emma in the eyes, yet.

 

“You see, Regina...going back to my work is not really the issue, here. It's going back to the phase where I didn't know how it could feel to have you close is what really makes me sad...”

 

The noise that the binders Regina placed on the desk made Emma jump.

 

“Miss Swan, the fake micro-world that you might have experienced in that elevator was temporary...and unreal. Every feeling was exaggerated by that surreal situation...but now, _here,_ everything is different.” 

 

“Let me tell you something. For me, that kiss was everything but unreal. Deny what you want, reject me every time you can. Probably you're not even as scared as I am now, but I won't change a single thing of what happened over there. I now know what I want, and I won't change it. Even if it has always ended badly, for me, I'm here, willing to fight.”

 

There wasn't any sign of sarcasm in Emma's words; somehow during her way to Regina's office, the issue had become serious and important and had lost the dynamic of a game, behind which she could hide her feeling and sound self-confident.

 

If that wasn't the right time, she would've tried again and again; Regina's refusals could even be an option, but not a reason for Emma to give up.

 

The silence was broken by Regina's voice that, despite a fierce look, seemed to be strangely hesitant.

 

“Miss Swan, you can take your plans, your naïve attitude and your permission to take Henry anywhere you desire and leave my office, now.”

 

Emma should've been ready to this distant, and somehow brutal, tone; that bitter remark made her feel again as the stranger entering Storybrooke without any kind of perspective and hope. That unpleasant sense of freedom that allows you do whatever you want just because no one cares. It hurt.

 

“It hurts”. Simple and true. “It hurts, you know? Do you think I've planned it? To actually admit that I like you, that I think about you...to surrender to the fact that we already have a kid together, that you already know my parents and, shit...all that's left to do is...is the easiest part!”

 

Regina shifted her gaze to her right, pretending to focus on some stupid brown box containing old documents – _Dec. 2003_ , suggested the note.

 

“Indeed, it sounds like a plan to me. I've noticed how you're a fan of strategies, phases and plans. You almost got me with your game, one hour ago. But now it's over, I won't follow any of your plans, anymore, Miss Swan...”

 

“Then follow Henry's plan and come with us to Boston”.

 

 

_-tbc-_


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are, finally, with the last chapter. It has really been weird, working on this story, trying to balance the tone, the actions and the attempts to give these characters a plausible characterization. And, oh...English language.  
> It has taken months. I'm sorry again for the long “hiatus” between chapter 4 and 5; it has been hard, and unfair for you all, coping with the lack of inspiration.  
> Anyway, thank you for your constant support!
> 
> G.

“ _Indeed, it sounds like a plan to me. I've noticed how you're a fan of strategies, phases and plans. You almost got me with your game, one hour ago. But now it's over, I won't follow any of your plans, anymore, Miss Swan...”_

 

“ _Then follow Henry's plan and come with us to Boston”._

–

Boston had been theirs, once. Before Emma, before that night when she went to Henry's room just to find out he was missing. Calling Graham had been a logical consequence, since he was the Sheriff; partly it was because she hoped he could really be able to help her and find her child, partly because she had the illusion that he could comforther, telling that everything would've been all right soon.

That was exactly the biggest mistake Regina Mills had ever made: hoping that, despite everything she had ever done, someone, somehow, could go beyond her guilts and be there in case of need. Just for a moment, a kind word or a smile would've been enough, without considering her past. 

Nevertheless, she knew she couldn't deserve that privilege, she couldn't look like a simple person asking for help, wanting company, craving love.

And Boston. Again. Like a recurring nightmare taunting her, she found that city crossing path with her life.

 

It took her 5 hours to get there, the first time she took her Benz for the longest journey of her life. That time, no one could drive but her, since she was the only person involved in the curse who could actually leave Storybrooke. She drove for 5 endless hours, smiling and then crying and then smiling again; she was going to a city, a real city belonging to that new world, where her son was waiting for her.

The second time she went there, it took her almost 8 hours. And there were no smiles or laughs. No tears. It was just her, knowing she couldn't be a mother, bringing that child back. She could feel he didn't belong to her, to Storybrooke or to the life she had desired for the both of them. He didn't belong to Boston, too, probably; but that place, for those 8 hours spent crossing small towns and driving in crowded motorways, was the only one he could be left, waiting for someone to love him.

And she almost did. She almost left him there. She had no idea what changed, in that office. What changed between them. He was the same baby she had in the car, inside the cradle, on her arms trying to make him stop crying. Out of nowhere, she just watched him in the eyes and she felt everything was ok. She couldn't exactly thing about an epiphany or an intimate revelation, but she could feel how, for the first time, someone was staring at her without seeing her past. Simply because there was no need to. And Henry came back with her.

Until that night, when her son came back home with her biological mother, she had always thought of Boston as the most magical place of the world because, without any wizardry, it was simply the corner of the world where every piece went to its place. Where she felt hope. Where her past scared her a bit less than it usually did. Because she had found Henry, and Henry had accepted her. Inexplicable, irrational, but real.

Boston was theirs, until Emma.

The capital of Massachusetts was now the place where Henry's story with Emma had begun, like there was nothing else before.

 

“Regina. Come with us”. Emma found herself quite scared by those silent minutes watching a petrified Regina staring a casual brown box on a shelf, eyes filled with void. She simply repeated her offer, with a softer and lower voice. And, like the first time, that question sounded in Regina's ears like an explosion. 

“This is not an option”. The cold in Regina's words was predictable, at that point. But what she said after revealed a paradoxical contrast that caught Emma unawares _._ “Was it really Henry's plan?”

“Well, just if you think that it sucks. If you like it, I'll admit it's mine”.

Regina abandoned those uninteresting brown boxes just in time to see Emma's smile. The most complicated, confusing and sincere smile of the world. 

“I don't like Boston”. Emma's smile went wider in front of that childish statement, so not typical for someone like Regina Mills, former Storybrooke mayor and Evil Queen. 

“You've never been there, I bet”. That change in Regina's tone represented the best chance for Emma to bring the conversation to a more sustainable level, where her wit, sarcasm and charming smile could become again her best weapons to cope with the urge of kissing that impossible woman again. There was so much she didn't know about Regina Mills, starting from those moments where her eyes couldn't hide the suffering, the pain and the fear that she felt. And what she had done to those around her.

The real issue for Emma was how to handle the desire of knowing it all, despite everything.

 

“You don't know anything about me, Miss Swan”. Were Regina's walls up again?

“Have you ever been to Boston, Regina Mills?”. Emma already knew the answer, but a few steps to get closer to Regina and try to frightenher probably hid the fact that Emma was quite aware of her experience in Boston. Henry indeed reveled her everything, remembering that sort of tale his mother had told him a few years back. 

“It's none of your business, Sheriff.” Regina rolled up her eyes, apparently to underline her frustration, but actually just to avoid eye-contact with Emma, since she could remember quite well what had happened the last time, back in the elevator. 

“It was Henry's plan”. _Oh, Emma. Wonderful idea. Blame the kid._  

“I see. It was a good plan, then”. Regina was back in the game again, even if she would've never admitted that Emma's dangerous proximity had been the catalyst.

“Yes, but the general strategy is mine.” Emma was now walking around Regina's desk; probably she had found some subliminal inspiration after having watched a documentary about lions with her excessively intelligent son. 

“Oh, back to being an horrible plan, again.” What had also been horrible was the bad timing of express that statement the exact moment Emma was in front of her. So close that she could smell the scent of her shampoo. 

“Do you know that probably your office is even smaller than that elevator?”. The brunette had to be lucid and find enough strength to think about something that could stop this game, which could've led to very dangerous side effects,ranging from testing how resistant could be her desk to discovering if Emma's kissing technique was just the first step of a more complex procedure.

 

“We can be friends, Miss Swan”.

 

_Wait, what?_

 

And with that sentence, Emma Swan took a step back. _Friends?_  

“Friends?” 

Saying that Emma was dumbfounded was an understatement; she could think of thousands of replies, involving jokes about her deep knowledge of an old TV show Regina had probably never seen, or some serious questions about the “benefits” that certain friendships sometimes include. But she had years of experience in arguing with the former mayor and she had already showed that, just with a little bit of commitment, she had already stolen a kiss. 

“As I've already told you, this office is really so small, Regina...”. A self confident Emma began to speak, before taking a deep breath as if she was pondering a crucial offer. 

“Is there a _but_?” Regina was not in the mood for long pauses between statements. 

Conflicted again between making a joke about the dangerous similarity between that adversative conjunction and a specific part of Regina's body she was very fond of, she simply offered her hand to the brunette.

Emma was highly satisfied with herself, considering how mature she had been, ignoring not just one but two consecutive occasions given by Regina just to provoke her _._  

 

“Yes, we can be friends”. 

Regina couldn't hide her suspicion for long, and probably she wasn't even aware of the puzzled expression of her face, but eventually she grabbed Emma's hand, sealing their deal. 

“Friends”, said the former mayor. 

Their hands were sincerely shaking on their new agreement. 

“Friends”, said the Sheriff. 

Their hands were there, proving that they could deal with their past, think about what was best for them and the town they lived in. And behave in small places, like an elevator or a small room reinvented as an office. 

“We should tell someone to fix the elevator”, suggested Regina. 

“And also to find a more proper place for you to work, maybe a real office”, added Emma. 

Their hands were still there, holding firmly. Actually it was Emma's thumb caressing the backof Regina's hand that was added an inexplicable extra meaning to that gesture. Not that Regina seemed worried or angry about it. 

“I agree. Small places may be dangerous for a kid”

“And for adults, too.” 

Maybe a simple shaking of hands wasn't enough to declare a truce between them, because the issue was much more important. So important that Emma, not satisfied after having kept Regina's hand tightly for 45 seconds, felt the urge to pull the brunette in her arms.

A kiss, at that point, was an inevitable consequence.

 

No strategy, no _Three fatal steps for a kiss_ by Emma Swan. No intention of letting her go away.

They were kissing again, and it was scary. It was scary because Emma knew she was playing with fire, cheating after having declared that they could actually be friends. 

It was scary because Regina was kissing back, accepting Emma's arms hugging her tightly, or her hands rubbing her back, against the soft fabric of her silken shirt.

It was scary because this gesture was not familiar, yet it was exactly what was needed in that moment; Emma found the tentative movement of her own hands quite electrifying - grabbing, caressing and exploring parts of Regina's body she could just dream of. Even if with boundaries established by good sense and by the crowd still at the basement of the building. Emma felt it was almost a privilege to draw lines following the curves of her back, or not being stopped when her right hand moved slowly to Regina's hip and then to her belly, to her breasts and, eventually to her neck. Their hands sealing a deal were just a long lost memory. 

Their lips had found a perfect rhythm, and their tongues knew how to play together without being too presumptuous, as if that was a game they had played for years. Regina's body was responding to every solicitation Emma was offering, and she felt no trace of regret when she realized she wasn't the one leading that game. Regina tried to stop the kiss without much effort, declaring how all this was so wrong again, and how it shouldn't happen again, but her arms, wrapped tightly around the blonde's neck, or her mouth dancing slowly under the guide of Emma's hand cupping her cheek one moment and playing with her black locks the other, were telling another story. 

A story where all this was perfect. A story she really wanted to believe in. 

The more Regina tried to speak, the more she had to deal with Emma kissing her perfectly, wanting her sincerely. The more her voice wanted to express how it was wrong, the more her body reacted just to convince her that there was no need to worry.

Or to be afraid.

Or to be scared in front of the desire of wanting all this to become a familiar, recurrent sensation. A part of her everyday life.

Clearly not as a friend. Emma unselfishly stopped the kiss, but didn't move.

 

“We should stop this, Emma.” 

“But we didn't...well, this was barely some...” 

“Lip contact, I know”

 

“Come to Boston.” Emma's lips found a new place under Regina's left ear. 

“You don't know what happened in Boston...”, Regina forced Emma to leave the new place she had found on her neck and she looked at her in the eyes. That was a damn serious issue. “You don't know the reason why I was there...how I felt”. 

No, Emma had no idea, even if she had her own moments to forget, too. 

“What if...it's ok if I don't? What if there could be a new story to tell about Boston, involving me, you and Henry?”

“We cannot leave my past behind. Not when even the present is so complicated...this town...and now this.” Regina had no intention of being rude, or to underestimate what had just happened between them. Well, for the fourth or fifth time that day. But this had been huge, because it meant something.

When they pulled away from their embrace, Regina couldn't sustain Emma's gaze, but also found tenderly hard to follow how the Sheriff's hands caressing her, from her shoulders to the top of her fingers, while walking away. Like she didn't actually wanted to leave. 

 

“I know, elevators are a bitch...”

 

Emma had already reached the door, when she stopped herself again. 

“Is there any chance to see you next Friday... 7am... my place?” 

Regina hated how Emma smile could make everything look so simple and clear. Or the hope, that damn hope the blonde was able to spread just with a sentence.

For once, Regina Mills decided that surrendering could be a good thing. 

“You're not taking the Bug, are you?” Arguing about what car to use was an implicit admission that there was actually a good chance for Regina to join Emma and Henry.

“You love that little mouse trap more than you'll never admit.” 

“It's small and old. And dangerous”. And yes, Regina maybe had a soft spot for that horrible yellow car. 

“So was the elevator.” Emma winked.

“We're renting a car. A big, spacious hybrid car.”

“Ok, then. But I cannot promise I won't book an hotel with very small and old elevators...”

 

 

_\- The End -_

 


End file.
